


Thor Has A Cold

by Velvedere



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Loki Likes Cheerios, M/M, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:07:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velvedere/pseuds/Velvedere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in movie 'verse where Loki follows Thor to Earth after being banished to keep an eye on him. Hijinks ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thor Has A Cold

Loki sat at a table in the front room of the dwelling the Agents of Shield had deemed worthy to house Thor for his stay on Earth.

He sat, quite contentedly, eating his Cheerios and looking over the parchments with which the humans chose to transmit their news to each other.

Then a corpse walked in.

Loki dropped his spoon.

In truth, it wasn’t a corpse.

It was Thor, but in such a state as Loki had never seen.

He rose, and immediately went to him.

“What happened to you?” Loki demanded.

Thor leaned against the doorframe. His skin was pale. His hair lay damp and tangled on his head. His cheeks and eyes had somehow lost their healthy look of life, and he turned down both to the floor.

“I do not know, brother,” Thor said, with a voice half blocked in his throat. “I do not feel…quite myself.”

Loki put his hands over Thor’s cheeks and lifted his face. He frowned into his brother’s eyes, touched a hand to his forehead.

He left the back of his palm there a moment as Thor quietly bore the contact, certain Loki knew just what to do.

At length, the tension in Loki’s posture eased.

He smiled, though a twinge of frustration flickered at the corner of his eye.

“You have a cold,” he said.

Thor blinked.

“A what?”

“A cold.”

Loki lowered his hands to Thor’s chest. His human shirt of tea felt damp. It clung to his frame in a way that would have otherwise been attractive, were it not for the reminder it offered of Thor’s mortality.

“It’s a human disease.”

Thor’s complexion paled even more.

He swallowed, preparing himself.

“Is it fatal?”

Loki laughed a little.

“No. No. Not fatal. It’s hardly a trifle, really. Under normal circumstances you would immune to such things.”

Loki pushed Thor’s shoulders, and stayed close to his side as he ushered him back towards his room. Thor seemed to feel the need to put his arm around him for support, so Loki allowed it.

Though it was really unneccessary.

“I do not feel cold,” Thor said, sniffling. “If anything…like burning.”

“It is something of a misnomer,” Loki mumbled.

“Can you cure me?”

“I will try.” Loki patted his chest, reassuring. “There are treatments. No true cure has been found.”

“I shall remember to speak to Dr. Banner.” Thor sniffled again. “He is a man of great knowledge and medicine. Perhaps he can—can—”

Thor sneezed as only a god could sneeze: with an epic bellow.

Fortunately, Loki was wearing common human clothing. It was easily replaced.

“Lie down, you lumbering ox,” he grumbled, and helped Thor into bed. “The best thing you can do is rest. I’ll take care of—”

Loki tilted his shoulders once they reached Thor’s bedside, hoping to slide him off gently – or at least in such a way as to not break the frame. But the journey down the hall proved more exhausting than Thor could handle. He fell, and took Loki with him, sprawled across the bed face down and groaning as his brother wriggled under him.

Mortal or not, Thor was heavy.

“Thor!” Loki gasped, scrambling for breath. “Thor…get off!”

Some quick magic and fumbling rearrangements later found them better situated.

Loki had Thor strip his damp garments and covered him to his neck in clean layers of blankets. He sat on Thor’s bedside – having changed clothes himself – with a bowl of steaming soup, which he fed to his brother despite incessant protesting.

“By the Nine, I will stifle under these blankets!”

“Leave them on,” Loki said sternly. “Your body is fooling you. You must keep warm.”

“I have no appetite, brother. This soup tastes as plain as stale water.”

“Eat it anyway.”

Thor pouted, but accepted another spoonful.

He remembered a time when Loki had done the same for him. An encounter with a bilgesnipe outside of Asgard had proved a triumphant battle, though in the course of it Loki had shattered his leg upon a rock. Confined to bed at the healers’ orders, Thor had brought him meals and books and did his best to alleviate the boredom his poor brother must have suffered, with nothing else to do but gaze out the window.

In retrospect, Thor’s efforts at entertainment were most likely something for Loki to groan at rather than be genuinely amused, but he had borne those days with a patient silence nonetheless.

Thor could only do the same.

If he tried hard, he could imagine the soup tasted salty.

He kept his eyes largely turned down, ashamed.

“Is it dishonorable,” he mumbled once the soup was nearly gone, “to be laid low by something so common?”

“The humans don’t seem to think so,” Loki said.

Thor risked a glance up. He did feel a degree or two better. Whatever medicine Loki had made him take before forcing the soup upon him seemed to be having an affect.

“What do you think?”

Loki arched an eyebrow. His expression was flat.

“I think you should finish this soup.” He pushed the bowl and its remnants into Thor’s hands, now that there was less chance of a spill.

Thor took it and drank.

Loki looked on to make sure he drank it all. Once the bowl was empty, he set it aside.

“I’ll bring you more water. It’s important you stay hydrated.”

“How long will it last?”

“Not long. A few days, depending on how well you behave. It will pass on its own.”

Thor groaned, and lay back against his pillows. He closed his eyes and buried his face as much as he could into their comfort.

Loki smiled, small and faint where Thor couldn’t see it, and reached out his hand.

A subtle ripple moved over his skin. Its color darkened, took on a blueish hue, as he brushed back damp strands of hair from Thor’s face and lay his palm over his brow.

Thor groaned again, this time in relief, and his eyes fluttered open.

“It’s cool,” he whispered. He moved his hand, taking hold of Loki’s wrist before he could pull it away.

Thor frowned as he turned his brother’s arm over to examine the faint blue color, the barely-there markings of a frost giant.

He looked back to Loki, concern painting his gaze.

“Not as cold as it once was,” he breathed.

Loki scowled, and yanked his arm free. It returned to its normal flesh color immediately.

“I’m getting better at controlling it,” he said, darkly, with as much bitterness as he could manage into the confession.

Thor looked to him without judgement. Without fear. Only gratitude and the return of his usual smile, dimmed as it was by lack of energy.

“Forgive my selfishness, brother,” he said, and took Loki’s hand again. “But I hope you do not become…too…accustomed to it.”

Loki looked back to him.

“No more than you should grow accustomed to being human,” he said wryly.

They smiled, and enjoyed the quiet of the moment and each other’s calmed presence.

Until Thor sneezed again.

This time Loki caught it with a kerchief.


End file.
